


Converge

by egelska



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Coming Out, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, F/F, Fluff, Porn with Feelings, Queer Themes, Short Chapters, if you haven't played past halamshiral don't read this, only tagging characters that have quite a bit of dialogue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-13 09:48:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 17,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4517253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egelska/pseuds/egelska
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra Pentaghast has always dreamed of a man meant to sweep her off her feet. She never expected that a woman-- let alone the soft-spoken, gentle Herald of Andraste-- would capture her interest... But the Maker wouldn't have chosen to send Aviva if He didn't mean for Cassandra to love her, would He? In the midst of wartime, Cassandra struggles with same gender attraction and coming to terms with who she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new addition to this fic is [an 8tracks mix!](http://8tracks.com/egelska/forces-of-nature) If you'd like music, feel free to listen, but don't read the tracklist on tumblr until you've finished everything. Some plot points will be vaguely spoiled!

Cassandra hated this party. 

Nobody was open about their intentions. The Game was exciting to some, she knew, but betrayal and bloodshed for sport could not appeal less to her. She had been standing by the balcony all night, leaning on a pillar and glowering at the nobility who tried to approach her. Her hackles were up constantly, watching for something to go wrong. 

At least the Inquisitor had been fully briefed beforehand. Vivienne had taken an interest in the younger mage's knowledge about Orlesian politics, to the point of commissioning a dress in the latest style so that Aviva wouldn't look so dreadfully out of place. Everyone kept their worry hidden, but Aviva was very much Dalish, and not only that, but a mage. She had been smothered in advice and preparations for days. 

Cassandra frowned. She was much more comfortable clambering over rocks and down hillsides with the Inquisitor, not accompanying her to a ball. She even felt as though they were safer there. At least when confronted with demons or assassins, Cassandra could stay in front of the little mage. Whenever Aviva was injured, Cassandra took it as a personal attack on her abilities, even when she could have done nothing else.

She had never actually questioned why she felt so anxious at the thought of the Inquisitor's safety. They were friends, and she was the Maker's chosen, after all. Anyone would feel the same way she did. Aviva was irreplaceable, and wanting her to be safe was completely normal. 

The bell tolled twice, and Cassandra watched as Aviva squared her shoulders and shuffled into the ballroom. Mostly out of boredom, Cassandra followed, hoping to catch Leliana and notify her of a few things she had overheard.

Her attention was caught instead by Aviva giving a polite bow to one of the most powerful women in the room-- and thus one of the most deadly in the Game. Inquisitor Aviva took Grand Duchess Florianne's hand, speaking softly, and Cassandra only caught the words, "Shall we dance?" 

She could only watch as they moved down the stairs and into position, still speaking under their breath. Aviva was shorter than Florianne, but she appeared to be dancing the role traditionally taken by men-- Josephine was likely thanking the Maker that she'd taught her both. Aviva led the Duchess around as easily as she must have done in practice with Josephine, and upon that thought, Cassandra realized something had tightened in her chest.

It was just nerves. She was nervous for the Inquisitor. The Game was played to the death, after all, and Aviva was being dropped into it headfirst. 

Even new to the Orlesian court, the shy, soft-spoken Inquisitor was positively dashing, with a sly smile on her face as she spoke with her dancing partner. She looked beautiful, Cassandra had to admit, in an Orlesian dress the color of spring grass. It was low-cut and slender, definitely not as fluffy as the trend in Val Royeaux. Vivienne had recommended something in a darker color and with a larger skirt, to coordinate with the current fashion, but Aviva had apparently insisted. Cassandra watched intently as the trail of the Inquisitor's cream-colored sash fluttered with its owner's movements, and she couldn't help but notice that Aviva looked remarkably different than she did when they cavorted around in the field, covered in sweat and mud. This shouldn't have surprised her, she thought, but it did. 

Her hair, usually messily braided to the side, was worn up in curls that had flown out of their pins as soon as Josephine put them in. Her whole appearance was a joint effort by Leliana, Josephine, and Vivienne, but Aviva's hair was determined to defy their stylings, curl by curl. Cassandra didn't even realize she was admiring the Herald until she was dragged from her thoughts by a motion on the dancefloor. 

Aviva swirled the Duchess around and dipped her gently towards the floor, like a scene from one of Varric's novels. The Seeker knew there was no romance between the dancing partners, but she couldn't help but imagine the tone of Aviva's voice and the feel of her soft hands pressed against her skin. Those thoughts led to others, which she put from her mind immediately. 

At this point, Cassandra knew that this wasn't how she felt when nervous. There was no point in dancing around it. Her heart was beating faster and her stomach was tight. She felt a certain heat in her cheeks that had only happened once before. No matter how much she wanted to ignore it, she desperately wanted to be the one being dipped and spun by the little mage on the dancefloor.

She had to shake it off. Tonight was much too important to be distracted by imagination. 

Cassandra turned and walked out, suddenly terrified that Aviva-- or one of the other Inquisition delegates-- had noticed she was watching. She leaned back against the pillar and sucked in a deep breath, waiting for her startled heart to quiet down.

But something occurred to Cassandra as she listened to the Orlesians murmur from the open ballroom door. Aviva had always been very friendly, if shy, and Cassandra had assumed that's what she intended. Her heart, already thumping in her chest, was speeding up. 

What if Aviva was dreaming of dancing with her, too?


	2. Wake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains graphic violence, but only in this chapter.

Only a week ago she had been dreaming of leading the Inquisitor into battle instead of standing around at a party. But now that they were surrounded by the screams of demons in the Fade, Cassandra almost wished to be back in Val Royeaux. Aviva looked back at her through the eerie wind that never ceased howling. "Cassandra, we've got to move. I can't stop to think about what these memories mean, or-- or what this spirit is, or the demon's going to find us." 

Cassandra nodded curtly, her hands gripping her silver axe so tightly that she felt it might cry out. "I will take point, and you and the Champion must stay behind my shield to keep out of harm's way. Dorian, Sera, cover us. Our usual tactics must be perfect here, or we will never prevail. Stroud, behind the two of them." 

Sera shifted and began to tear at her scalp, the way she always did when she was afraid. This time, when her fingers came away, Aviva saw blood. Demons and magic terrified Sera, but there was nobody she trusted more to pick off attackers than Red Jenny.

Sera drew her bow and sunk an arrow deep into a demon's chest as it rushed Aviva. "Better watch out! Put one of those shiny barriers on yourself for once, there's more coming!" 

Aviva turned to see a terror charging her, and she braced for the inevitable impact as she let fire fly from her fingertips. But as she closed her eyes to keep blood out, she only heard a sickening crunch. Aviva's eyes flew open to see Cassandra standing in front of her, shouting, "Maker take you!" 

The Seeker's shield was drenched in the disgusting blood of the demon she had just smashed it with, and her axe buried itself deep into another one's head. With a scream, it staggered backwards, only to bellow in agony as flames enveloped its body thanks to the Tevinter mage approaching him from behind. "Inquisitor, snap out of it and fight! We're depending on you!" 

She shook her head violently and pointed up the stairs, having seen that the last of this group was dead. Cassandra went first, as always. The three of them crouched behind her as they scrambled upwards and out of the screaming wind into an eerie silence. Across towards the stone stairs stood a massive pride demon, with magic flying everywhere already. At the center of it all was Hawke. Marian's magic was warm and bright, casting a distinctive glow over the battlefield. Once she had thought that the Champion being a spirit healer was just embellishment by Varric, but after fighting beside her, she knew better. The Inquisitor had never had such a talent for healing, only protection, but Hawke lifted broken men from the ground to fight on with ease. 

She had learned that trick from the Champion earlier. Aviva had never had to use it, but if one of her companions fell, she could revive them... At least, in theory. She snapped out of her thoughts as a shade lunged at them, and with a flick of her fingers, she enveloped it in ice. "Press forward-- let's aid the Champion!" 

Hawke's blue eyes flicked over towards them for a moment, and as she leapt out of the way of the demon's fist, she shouted, "I'd appreciate that!" 

Dorian's magic was aggressive, and flames sprung forth from his fingers like sprouting flowers. It was a beautiful and deadly show of force. A great wall of fire erupted from the ground below the demon as easily as a lesser mage might conjure a flame to light a candle. The demon roared, a sound so awful that it made Aviva cringe. She watched as Cassandra threw herself into the fray as easily as ever, and then she knew there was no time for fear. If Cassandra was unafraid, she could be unafraid. 

Sera suddenly screamed, and Aviva expected the worst. But instead, she saw something shambling towards them from the shadows at a terrifyingly fast rate. Dorian yelped, "Spiders? Why spiders?!" 

But she couldn't see spiders. She would have loved to see spiders. 

An Inquisition soldier was leaving a trail of blood from a gushing wound on his chest as he crawled towards them, sword in hand. He moved far too fast to be human. In the home of a fear demon, Aviva should have known she would see her own fears, but she hadn't expected this. The soldier shambled to his feet and lunged at Sera just as she heard a great dying wail from the pride demon to their right. 

Cassandra was too far away, and wouldn't reach in time. So Aviva charged in in and swept the blade of her staff through his chest. Sera leapt away, and in a second, an arrow sprouted from the man's head. He staggered back, and fell. But they had missed others, from the sounds of continued fighting. From a distance, Hawke cried out, "I'm overwhelmed!" 

Stroud lunged towards her to cut down the demon pushing her back. Three would almost never be enough to take down the Champion, but she'd just faced down a pride demon, and her face was streaked with sweat and blood. Aviva looked around for Cassandra as Sera and Dorian advanced towards Hawke, and as she turned, Cassandra bellowed. "I'm injured!" 

Aviva nearly screamed in surprise. The demon bearing down on her companion was wearing the same armor-- and the same hair. A copy of Cassandra, with entrails spilling from its armor, swung at her. She swung low, almost as if she couldn't see the same vision as Aviva. But the Seeker's face was green. She grasped for a potion, but the demon smashed it against her side. As the Herald ran to close the distance between them, she slammed her staff into the ground, and the demon erupted into crimson flames. It was only then that she saw the stab wound Cassandra carried, in the small space where her armor closed at her side. Her side was soaked in blood, and Hawke was too occupied with her own demons to mend it. The demon stumbled back as Cassandra hacked at it with an axe, and its form began to shake as it died. For a moment, Aviva saw the spider Dorian had mentioned, only as it took a dying lunge at Cassandra's leg. 

The Seeker roared in pain and cleaved its head in two with her axe. Its entrails, black and green lumps, splattered the ground around her. She locked eyes with Aviva, and then she collapsed. The Inquisitor's voice was a wild scream as she closed the last few yards between them. "Cassandra!" 

The seeker was passed out, blood still running from her wounds, and from the sounds of fighting, Hawke might be too long. It would be on Aviva to revive her. So she grasped her wooden staff tightly and focused all her energy into lifting her protector up again, then gestured towards her. The same gentle green color as Hawke's magic emanated from her in a blinding pillar, and then from Cassandra. Transparent wings sprouted from the Seeker's back, a shining beacon over the battlefield, as she was lifted to her feet. Cassandra's eyes stayed locked with Aviva's as she rose, an expression of awe on her scarred face. Aviva wasn't occupied with her expression, though-- she was noting that her injuries mended only enough to get her back on her feet. 

As Cassandra stood and the light faded, she opened her mouth to speak. But Aviva was there too quickly, and she wrapped an arm around Cassandra's back to support her. With the other hand, she uncorked a potion and tilted it down the Seeker's throat without a word. They were pressed close together, and Aviva's coat was now covered in Cassandra's blood. She swallowed the elfroot elixir and then stood straighter, with only blood dripping from her armor to show that she had been unconscious a few moments earlier. 

Hawke let out a laugh of surprise from the other skirmish. "Inquisitor, you catch on quickly!" 

Aviva startled and let go of the other woman, having not even realized she was still holding on after the potion had taken effect. "I-- thank you," she called back. "Let's move." 

There was no time to dawdle, or for Cassandra to even begin to compute how she was feeling. They pressed forward, and both the Inquisitor and the Seeker pressed that close encounter to the back of their minds.


	3. Sour

The nights in Skyhold were always freezing, but this one was even colder than most. The stars covered the sky in patterns of pinprick light, and the moon lit up the battlements as someone stumbled across them. Cassandra awoke with a start to a knock on her door. She grabbed for her sword, then dragged herself out of bed. 

When she opened the door, the Inquisitor stood before her, shoulders slumped and eyes wide. She had only seen Aviva so terrified once before, in the fade after Adamant. Her voice was softer than she had meant when she spoke. “Inquisitor?” 

“Cassandra, you said you were terrified, when we were in the Fade,” Aviva murmured, her brown eyes wide as she clutched a knit shawl around her shoulders. 

“I was. Come in, then talk,” replied the other woman, and it was almost an order. 

Aviva didn’t even nod, just walked in. She stood with her back to the wall, one hand clutching her shawl and the other tracing the grey bricks behind her. “I never.. said anything. I was terrified too. I still am,” she continued, speaking fast in a voice so low it was almost a whisper. 

“Do you remember the spiders Dorian saw? How they weren’t spiders to Sera? They weren’t for me, either, and I can’t get them out of my mind.” 

Cassandra listened, and with her worry weighing her down, she felt as though she was moving through syrup as she closed the door. She then sat down on her bed again and sheathed her sword. Pulling her sheets into some semblance of order, she patted the bed and interrupted, “My friend, you can sit, you know.” 

Aviva sat down beside her companion, and Cassandra noticed with some embarrassment that she was perhaps too close. “Cassandra, I saw those demons as people. People I need to take care of, people I couldn’t save. All dead, crying out, cursing me for failing them. I saw our friends, our comrades.” 

Cassandra tentatively reached out a hand to pat Aviva’s shoulder. She was never the best at comforting others, but she was trying. Then Aviva’s shoulders began to shake with the effort of staying calm. “A demon who looked like you, with blood and guts–” She gestured across her throat, then to her stomach, and continued, “It came at me, and I can’t get the image out of my mind. I can’t even sleep.” 

Casaandra’s heart was in her throat. Suddenly, she was glad of how close they were, and she realized that Aviva was leaning against her ever so slightly. Her heart sped up at the touch, and she had to take a breath to keep from being flustered.   
This was wrong. Friends wouldn't feel flustered. A good friend wouldn't be so afraid to touch her. But Cassandra had to be. 

Aviva looked down, her cheeks red with shame. "I'm sorry for bothering you. You barely mentioned your fear. You even-- when you said you admired me, you hadn't seen me like this," she exhaled, her voice shaky. 

"I do admire you," Cassandra choked out, trying to find words that weren't too intimate nor too stoic. "You fought them, and you kept us alive. You always do, somehow, even if you end up tearing the world open to do so." 

Aviva sighed and nodded. "That's why the demons looked the way they did, isn't it? I spend all my days hiding behind you and the others, and that's what I'm afraid of. Failing, one of these days, when the Inquisition needs me most."

Suddenly, the Inquisitor moved away from Cassandra, perhaps aware of how tense her friend was. She stood up and began to pace, speaking firmly but softly. "At Adamant, I saw people die for me. They were cut down, opened up, torn apart. All in my name."   
"It troubles you, to see death every day," Cassandra replied, tilting her head slightly. "And I can only imagine how it is compounded, to know that we depend on you." 

The wind howled outside, and Aviva jumped. She paced quicker, and Cassandra kept speaking, her voice raised to be louder than the wind. "You once told me that I am a force of nature. I think of you in that way, as well. You bend, but you do not break, no matter what the world forces you to handle." 

Aviva sighed, looking back over at her friend. "Only because I have people who support me," she said wearily, then smiled and continued. "For example, I know someone who even let me barge into her quarters in the middle of the night in the freezing cold to cry about nightmares." 

"That's what a friend does for you, Inquisitor. You have more friends than you think here, and any of them would do the same." 

Those words felt sour crossing her tongue, but she had to remind herself: the Inquisitor is her friend. Only her friend.


	4. Confront

She had known this moment was coming for weeks. A truly good friend wouldn't let Aviva keep awkwardly flirting with her, and she knew no other way to deal with things than to confront them. Cassandra had pulled her companion aside onto the battlements one chilly, blustery morning and asked if she really meant those words to be romantic. 

Aviva had told her yes. 

So there they were, staring away from one another out at the freezing mountains, pretending the silence between them was normal. Aviva was absently braiding her long, thick hair to the side, as she often did when nervous. Cassandra had noticed. The silence broke when the Seeker spoke again, her tone harsh. She was talking half to herself, and half to the short elf beside her. 

“You cannot court me, if that is your intention. It is impossible.” 

She’s the Inquisitor. She’s a woman. A mage. An elf. The Inquisitor was nothing like the men Cassandra had been dreaming about, and yet, she was far better. 

Aviva laughed a little, shocked to confusion by the dismissal, and Cassandra felt her resolve to turn her down crumbling. Aviva tilted her head and asked, her voice soft and hesitant, “I think I’ve done things you thought were impossible before. Would you at least like me to try?” 

Cassandra turned her head and looked away, because if she looked at her, she wouldn’t be able to say it. “No,” she snapped, and turned away completely. 

Aviva sucked in a breath, waiting to hear the other shoe drop, but nothing came. Her exhale was a shuddering, controlled breath as she tried to keep herself together. Hearing that, Cassandra knew she couldn’t look back. She even knew the shocked, hurt expression the Inquisitor would be wearing. If she didn’t end it right here, she wouldn’t be able to at all. So Cassandra strode back through the arch, slammed the door behind her, and leaned against it with her heart thundering in her chest. 

Everything about this felt wrong. The Maker wouldn’t have sent Aviva knowing that they would have to ignore these feelings. Perhaps this was ordained, just as her rise to power was. Aviva was right-- she had already done many things everyone thought impossible. 

Cassandra turned and opened the door again, only to see Aviva leaving, shoulders slumped. She had been completely correct about not being able to see her friend without getting cold feet. One look at the little mage and she was rushing after her, calling out, "Wait!" 

Aviva turned, and Cassandra noticed immediately that her eyes were watery. She looked mortified to be called after, like she was going to be told off for daring to try. Cassandra's mouth worked faster than her brain, and she stammered, "I do want this."

The Inquisitor opened her mouth to respond, then closed it. She dabbed at her eyes angrily, and it caused a twinge in her companion's chest. Cassandra had seen her tear up before-- often, in fact, even when her voice was strong and her mind was clear-- but this was different. She had caused this. 

"I want... I wanted a man to sweep me off my feet. To read me poetry, and give me flowers, and light candles for me at night," Cassandra nearly shouted, her voice louder than she had meant it. 

"I'm not exactly what you had been hoping for, then," Aviva murmured, "But you said-- you want this? Me? Cassandra, we'll still be friends if you don't." 

"Yes. That is what I said," she replied firmly, then softened her tone as she continued. "I believe the Maker sent you. And if He sent you, then He must have known this would happen. I am not accustomed to dancing around things and pretending they don't exist. I should not start now." 

Aviva smiled a little, and Cassandra felt her stomach flop over at the sight. Aviva lifted a small hand slowly, shyly, and gripped Cassandra's. "That's brave of you," she replied softly. "I knew you were brave, though. I just didn't know if you ever thought of me like this." 

"I did. Maker, I did," the other woman exhaled. "And I was terrified of it. I still am." 

"You don't have to be afraid of it! At least, not when we're alone. If you don't want others to know, I don't care! It doesn't change how I feel, Cassandra," Aviva replied, and the raw passion in her voice turned Cassandra's cheeks red.

"But it does change things, Inquisitor. I... I need to think for a while. Please." 

Aviva let go of her hand, and Cassandra turned abruptly, returning through the same door she had earlier slammed. 

This time, she closed it gently.


	5. Compose

Aviva sat in the corner of the war room, wrapped in a blanket. She knew that it would almost certainly be empty unless she called her advisors there for strategy, and thus, it was the perfect place to try to write. Especially this late in the evening, with the sun nearly setting, nobody would bother her-- or so she hoped. 

She had never really learned to write well until she came to Haven. She knew enough to be a decent First and communicate with humans, but not enough to write with any eloquence like some of her advisors could. Finally she gave up and closed her leather-bound notebook, then threw it on the ground next to her with a loud clap. 

From the door, she heard a gasp. "Inquisitor?" 

Aviva looked over to see a friendly face peering from behind the doorframe, just slightly open. She had been so absorbed that she hadn't even heard Josephine open the door. Aviva turned a deep red and scrambled for her book, then held it tight against her lap. "Oh! I-- didn't see you, Josephine," she replied, her voice louder than she'd meant. 

The ambassador approached slowly, leaning down to see what Aviva was up to. She sighted the notebook and frowned in concern. "Are you working on your report of the events at Cair Oswin still? I mean, I know I'm still working, but that's beside the point..."

"No, that's on your desk. It's just, um... It's business," she replied, but her flaming cheeks gave her away as a liar. 

Josephine raised her eyebrows. "Is it something one of us could do for you? Would you let me take a look, at least? I know it's faster if you dictate and someone writes." 

With a flutter of skirts, Josephine sat down next to her. Josephine was always so put together, so charming. Aviva envied her social grace and confidence, but not enough that there was any bad feeling. On the contrary, Josephine had been the first person to win her way into the Inquisitor's good graces. "It... It's not business. But if you aren't busy, you might be able to help. I-- I need to know about human courting. And, um, poetry." 

Josephine had to smile, and she reached for the notebook. "You're writing poetry? Someone must be important to you, for you to hide away in the war room at night to write for them. But what specifically about our courting methods do you need to know?"

"Human men bring flowers, don't they? And-- she said candles, and poetry. I could just buy a book, but I'm no human. I think I'd like to do that, but I want to write something of my own, too," Aviva replied, her words almost too quick to understand. 

It was obvious how flustered the conversation was making the Inquisitor, but Josephine was as calm and cheerful as ever. Helping people navigate society was her livelihood, after all! "They do. I take it you're wooing a woman? In that case, you might not worry as much about whether or not what you're doing is traditional. Some will find your affections objectionable no matter what you do. Luckily for you, I've been in your shoes before, and as such, I am certainly not one of those people." 

Aviva was startled, but a grin crossed her face as she looked up at her friend. "You-- you like women, as well? I didn't know! I thought it was just myself, and Leliana, and Sera.. There was one couple in my clan, but they were older than me, and happy together. I'm not used to having people to even talk to about it!" 

"Inquisitor, of course you may talk to me about those things. Now, for flowers, there is a whole language for bouquets! You can convey anything from heartbreak to true love with flowers. What do you want to tell her?" Josephine asked, beaming and obviously in her element. 

"I want her to know that I'm not afraid of being with her. That I can give her the ideal romance, as well as any nobleman. What do rich noblemen buy for the women they're courting? I want to buy that, but better," stammered Aviva, gesturing with her quill towards the notebook. 

Josephine let out a genuine laugh. "The classic red roses, then, and if I am to be honest, I think that beyond that, you should pluck her wildflowers yourself. I've always thought that to be much sweeter, and the red roses should communicate your intent well enough." 

Aviva grabbed her notebook and scribbled down a note in jolting, slow hand. Roses, red. Wildflowers. Make sure they aren't poisonous first. Ask Sera, she'll know. On the opposite page were stanza after stanza of poems, almost all crossed out with thick, angry swashes of ink. Josephine leaned over to look. "You were working at this for a while. Would it be prying if I asked who you're intending to woo? Would I know her, or is it one of your admiring throng from Halamshiral?" 

Aviva's cheeks flamed up again, having just settled back into their usual golden brown color. "Don't tell anyone, yet. Except Leliana, if you like. She can keep a secret, and I wouldn't expect to speak a word in this castle without it getting back to her somehow. I want to court Cassandra." 

That was not the answer Josephine had been expecting, but as soon as she heard it, many things made sense. "Oh! I knew there was a reason you were so quiet around her-- well, perhaps only quieter than usual. I hope things go well for the two of you. Should I let you be, or do you need more from me?" 

Aviva tilted her head in thought, her cheeks still heating up her whole face. "I might want you to read my poem before I show it to her," she mumbled, grabbing her notebook close to her and dipping her quill in ink again. "But for now, I should do fine. I was mostly worried about what flowers to get her, and you helped me with that. Don't keep yourself up with work, either, you should go to sleep." 

The ambassador laughed and stood up, brushing the dust off of her skirts. "You must get to sleep as well, Aviva. But I would gladly read your poetry for you. Until then."


	6. Burn

She had slipped a handwritten letter under Cassandra's door, with a few pressed and dried flowers against the margins and her best handwriting on display. She knew she couldn't even attempt to mimic the beautiful calligraphy of the nobility, but with Josephine's careful coaching she could at least make her chickenscratch look passable. She had invited Cassandra out to a marked location in the wooded mountains outside Skyhold, and even drawn a map. The trail had taken her three days to carve through the wilderness without harming the surrounding plant life too much or letting others know it existed, and for yet another time, she thanked the Gods for her magic. She could only hope that Cassandra would come. 

The Seeker walked down the mountainside with a letter clutched tightly in her armored hand. The trail was winding but short, and she could see a pale green light coming from behind a grove of birch trees. It was unmistakably magical fire, which could mean one of two things: either Aviva waited there for her, or this was an exquisitely crafted trap. 

But when Cassandra turned the corner around a large bush to see the clearing, she couldn't hold back a gasp. Aviva wasn't facing her, but instead flipping through a book and pacing. She wore the same gold and red Inquisition uniform that Cullen and Dorian had worn to the Halamshiral ball, but tailored to her slimmer size. They must have made one for her before Vivienne took over, Cassandra thought, and her heart thumped wildly in her chest. She looked dashing. "Aviva?" 

The elf turned around quickly, clutching a book to her chest and giving her a beaming smile. "I didn't know if you would come," she murmured, her smile lit up by the floating orbs of light that she had conjured in the tree branches. 

"I have something to read for you," added the Inquisitor, brandishing the book and showing off its floral cover. 

Before Cassandra could say a word, Aviva looked up at the stars through the pale branches and began to speak. Surprisingly, the book stayed closed. 

"Spring snow buries saplings, which sprout through the cold,  
Till summer brings warmth and the melting of snow  
Then like branches, we grow  
Until my boughs are a shelter and my leaves unfold,  
Then through winter I'll stand with us safe below." 

Her cheeks had heated up, but her voice didn't falter. She only looked up at Cassandra when she had finished speaking. The other woman was smiling, her head tilted. "That wasn't from a book," she commented. 

"I-- wrote it," she mumbled, and her voice finally began to show her nerves. 

Aviva patted some dust off of her golden sash and offered the book, looking up at the much taller woman. "If you can do so much better, why not give it a try?" 

Cassandra laughed out loud and closed the space between them to snatch the book from her hands and flip through it. She finally settled on a page, then stumbled over the first word.

"His lips on mine speak words not voiced, a prayer--  
which travels down my spine like flame that shatter night.  
His eyes reflect the heaven's stars, the Maker's light.  
My body opens, filled and blessed, my spirit there.  
Not merely housed in flesh, but brought to life." 

She looked up, to find a very red Aviva staring at her with hands clasped in front of her. Her voice was almost plaintive when she spoke."His eyes?" 

"Your eyes," declared Cassandra. "While the poem describes a man, I think we both well know who it was I thought of." 

Aviva laughed and closed the distance between them to clasp the larger woman in a tight hug. "It was rather forward, I think. You're more forward than I am about your intent, hm?" 

"I have told you, I am not accustomed to dancing around what I think," Cassandra replied, wrapping the elf up in her arms and pulling her close. 

Aviva was lifted slightly off the ground in the hug for a moment before Cassandra let go and settled to the ground on one of the blankets. She plopped down next to her and looked up, smiling mischievously. "You don't sound like you want to read another." 

Cassandra made a soft 'hmph' noise in response, unclasping her breastplate from behind. "Indeed I do not." 

The Herald let out a laugh and leaned up to press her lips to Cassandra's. It was gentle at first, afraid to push her too far, as if Cassandra was a porcelain doll. But Aviva knew that her friend wanted passion, and her actions proved it. With her breastplate half removed, Cassandra grabbed Aviva's cheeks and kissed her hard in return, eyes closed. 

When Aviva wrapped her hands around Cassandra's waist to tug at her clothes, a fire lit itself in the Seeker's stomach. If she had any doubts when she'd come here, it was burning them away.


	7. Ordain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains oral sex, Cassandra receiving. The next chapter is sex-free, so feel free to skip if you're sex-repulsed. I made sure to pace it so that this is its own chapter so people can skip if they want. :-)

Cassandra sat on the blanket, legs crossed, feeling more vulnerable than she ever had before. She was almost entirely stripped down, with Aviva's eyes locked on hers. She knew how she looked and she liked it, but suddenly a terrible fear came over her that Aviva wouldn't. 

Cassandra's dark tan skin was riddled with scars and marks, some healing, some faded. Aviva tilted her head slightly and reached out, then let her hand fall. "Cassandra," she exhaled, one last check, "Do you want this?" 

That breathy question broke her out of her thoughts and caused a bright blush to spread on her face. "I... Yes, I do," she murmured in response. 

The Herald gently pressed a hand to Cassandra's shoulder and eased her down into the blankets, her motions slow and easy to predict. Aviva was much closer to the image Cassandra had always known of the lady in her romance novels-- slight and short, with a soft, round face. But Aviva's skin was scarred as well, and her breasts were almost flat against her chest. Cassandra blushed harder simply because she had noticed. Suddenly, Aviva pressed their lips together, leaning down over the Seeker. 

She felt Cassandra tense up, but after a moment, she reached up to wrap her arms around Aviva and pull her closer. The Herald was soft pressed against her, in sharp contrast to Cassandra, who was almost completely made of muscle. Aviva smiled into their fierce kisses as Cassandra's hands slowly explored her body, pausing to run over her scars. 

That gave her enough assurance that her lover was enjoying herself to continue. Aviva gently broke the kiss and scooted back a little, dragging her fingers over Cassandra's skin and reveling in her shuddering breath. "Let me court you," she murmured with a small smile on her lips. "I want to see you so happy you can't help but shake." 

Cassandra sucked in a breath, her whole face now on fire. All she could manage was a loud, quick, "Yes!" 

Aviva laughed, obviously enjoying herself, and it made Cassandra's stomach flutter to realize that she was hearing the Herald laugh more and more lately. She was on her knees now, pressing kisses down to Cassandra's belly button-- and then further. Cassandra had thought she would be more nervous than she was, but Aviva was gentle and passionate in turns, and she took everything slow. She made it easy. When they'd first began to speak, Cassandra had wondered if such a shy little wisp would have any chance in the Inquisition. Now, she saw Aviva leading in all aspects of her life. She had never been told of how much her presence emboldened the Herald, but a small feeling inside her hoped her gut was true. 

The Herald looked up at her from between her legs, lit up by the magical lights she'd conjured. The wait was becoming torturous. Finally, Aviva began to lick, and Cassandra let out a loud gasp of relief. She jerked upwards and tangled her hands into Aviva's long, braided hair, pushing her closer. Aviva wasn't perturbed at all. She continued her work with her tongue, and then when she pressed a finger against her lover's entrance, she elicited a noise she had only dreamed of: Cassandra squirmed and gasped her name. Aviva had to close her eyes and take a breath, savoring the moment. Her heart hammered in her chest as she pleasured her new lover, gently sliding two fingers inside her. 

It was only a short time before Cassandra felt a tension building, and with Aviva's mouth against her clit, she couldn't help herself. It had been a long time since she came so hard- perhaps since Regalyan had touched her. This was different somehow.  
Aviva sat up slowly, as she licked Cassandra off her fingers, unashamed. She smiled at the still-shaking Seeker. Her voice was bright and proud when she spoke. "Are you happy?" 

With a shuddering breath, Cassandra sat up as well. She tilted her head slightly and grinned, giving Aviva only a moment to react before she pounced. This time it was Aviva who was underneath her lover against the thick blankets, giggling like a schoolgirl. "I've never been happier," murmured Cassandra against her lover's ear, delighting in the Herald's happy sigh. 

As she kissed her, Cassandra swore she felt more righteous now than she ever had. Nothing was wrong about how Aviva made her feel. All of how she felt must have been ordained. Something so perfect could be no less than the Maker's plan.


	8. Douse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for Dorian's personal quest. Mentions of homophobia.

The sun was bright over the Frostbacks, even this early in the morning. Aviva stared out from the battlements, pacing. She was wrapped in a long, fluffy cape, gifted to her by Josephine from her own closet. ("You look so cold wandering around the castle," she had said, "Please don't get frostbitten fingers!") It made her smile every time she wore it. 

Recent events had shaken her. Not only had Cassandra been occasionally coming to nap with her in her quarters-- not that they did much sleeping-- but Dorian had requested she escort him to meet his father. In theory, she wouldn't have minded, but in practice, it was yet another reason to be afraid. While she knew Cassandra disapproved, she liked Dorian well enough to ask for his company on most of their field work. 

So she paced, absently practicing control over a fire spell she'd recently learned. Aviva had never been particularly good with offensive magic: at least not in the awe-inspiring way she saw Dorian and Vivienne cast it. They never had any fear of the elements they conjured, or if they did, they showed nothing. She guided the fireball around her person in circles, up and down and around again. 

When the door behind her opened, she startled, and it flared up enough to catch at the cloak she had so loved. Aviva positively squealed in horror-- not that she couldn't douse it, but that Josephine's gift would be singed. Before she could even start to cast, the flames gently glowed orange and died. 

She looked up at the sound of a laugh to sight Dorian, then turned a light pink. "Practice makes perfect," he noted. "But practice with me next time, would you? Offensive magic comes naturally to me, and perhaps I can stop you from lighting your cloak on fire and upgrade you to burning demons instead." 

Aviva's cheeks were turning redder and redder, and her shoulders slumped slightly out of embarrassment. Dorian took a step forward and spoke quickly, his tone betraying his genuine concern. "Look, I haven't learned half of what you can do with spirit magic, so I don't mean to be condescending-- well, sometimes I do, but not to you, usually. I just worry when friends of mine are up on secluded castle walls frowning and lighting their clothes on fire."  
"Well," Aviva sputtered, finally looking back up at her taller friend. "I worry when friends of mine have families who are-- are just awful! And I worry when I'm supposed to care about what Thedas thinks of who someone love, rather than what they themselves think!" 

She turned and pressed her hands to the stone ramparts, lips pursed together tightly. Aviva almost never spoke this strongly, so Dorian quieted to let her continue. "You know, worry isn't a harsh enough word. I hate it! I don't understand why anyone would disapprove of people like us!" 

She hadn't even noticed, but Dorian stood beside her and looked out at the mountains with her. But at her last sentence, his head tilted slightly in an unspoken query. When Aviva said nothing, he voiced his question. "You said-- people like us. Not 'people like you.' Do you really mean..." 

Aviva looked over then, and a tiny smile crept onto her lips. "I did mean that. I've never wanted men. It wasn't an issue with my clan, unless you count complete isolation from other people like myself as an issue." 

A grin spread on Dorian's face, larger than Aviva had seen before, even when they spent the night in the library drinking and laughing at the contents of old books. "It's an issue. If the Dalish were to argue over champagne and cast blood magic at the slightest offense, I could perhaps relate more, but you know that," he replied, with his face thoughtful as he continued. "So that's why you were positively venomous to my father. It's not that I didn't appreciate having you back me up, but I did wonder."

"I was a bit... incensed about the topic when I came, for personal reasons," she admitted, and Dorian noted that she was back to speaking in her usual volume. 

Only the Inquisitor could describe her tirade as being "incensed." She had cursed at Dorian's father and told him he would never be welcome in Skyhold without Dorian's express approval, then slammed the door behind them to prove her point. She had never spoken to him before, but the usually soft-spoken woman had looked more than willing to get into a physical fight on Dorian's word. It was completely unlike anything that had happened to him before, and it was a welcome change.

"Personal reasons? Anything you need to get off your chest?" 

"I-- um, I am involved with a woman. But when we first confessed, she told me it was impossible for me to court her. I know she might have just meant because I'm the Herald, but-- but it seemed like everything I am makes me unworthy. I'm too elfy, I'm an apostate, I'm a woman..." 

Dorian opened his mouth, but now that Aviva was speaking up, she couldn't stop. "No matter what I do, I can't be the self-assured, muscled, _human_ hero she's probably looking for. I don't even know anything about courting humans, let alone noble humans! I'm just scared that I'm not good enough for her, or for the Inquisition." 

Dorian's firm hand on her shoulder stopped her from speaking. "You're good enough for me, and my standards for friends are exceedingly high. By the way, you don't have to tell me who you're talking about, but I must admit that I have a good guess. She stares at you during battle with the same starry eyes she gets while reading. I doubt she finds you unworthy." 

Aviva tensed up slightly at that revelation, raising her eyes a little to meet Dorian's. "Cassandra? You can't mean Cassandra." 

"Ooh, I knew it! You always get just a little too close together, and you look at her with your sad, lonely face when you think Sera and I don't notice," guffawed Dorian, with an overtly smug grin on his face. 

Aviva had to grin in return. "I, uh, I knew you noticed," she lied, causing a chuckle to rumble from her friend. "Let's go get breakfast, and then you can help me practice fire magic." 

"Of course. We wouldn't want you to light yourself on fire in front of your dashing Seeker, would we?" 

"You're so rude!"


	9. Asunder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for poison, blood, and death. (No major character death in this chapter.)

It was a hellishly hot afternoon in the Western Approach when they had settled down at camp to a quick lunch. A requisitions officer they didn't recognize quietly unpacked the supplies while Sera patched up yet another hole in her armor.

Cassandra was sweating hard in her armor, and for once, she opted to take at least the breastplate off to eat. There were guards on duty, after all, and the two mages didn't need any weapons to be deadly. She walked back into her tent, armor clanking the whole way, with Aviva's eyes on her. They had shared Aviva's room before, but never yet a tent. 

Nothing seemed off, but something was giving Cassandra an odd feeling. She chose to take it out by polishing her armor: the repetitive motions gave her a mind-numbing task to quell her fears. Outside, she could hear Aviva and Dorian laughing while they ate lunch, but she decided to eat after she finished her work. 

It took a few minutes to take off each piece of armor, and then to polish them well enough that they shone. Her stomach was growling by the time she'd finished, but her armor was well-tended and the plate shone like the sun. From outside, she heard Dorian's voice raise in confusion and concern. "Inquisitor?" 

Her head turned and she looked outside the tent. Aviva's face was always a deep olive color, but now she saw the green undertones far too much for her liking. The Inquisitor looked around slowly, then gestured to her stomach. "Something's wrong," she murmured. "Where's the, um... the officer?" 

Sera was already up and moving. She talked as she rushed around the edges of camp. "Let me check the food. Next time, no matter how bloody tired we get, we make our own lunches," she exclaimed, then swore loudly. "Piss! Tracks leading off over here, and there's blood behind that tree out there where the we've all been pissing. Enough that someone's dead. Can't see anything else besides some feet. And the tracks go off from the patrol route." 

Aviva looked up at Cassandra, and for once, she saw fear in her lover's eyes. "I'm so tired," she exhaled. "I just want to-- to lie down for a moment." 

Cassandra's voice sounded almost frantic, and nothing put a pit in Dorian's stomach like hearing the Seeker voice fear. "No. No, you must stay awake. I'll take you back to the keep, and we'll have Dorian and Sera find out what's happening. Sera, you know alchemy, correct?" 

Aviva's eyes fluttered as she spoke, but she nodded, a grimace on her face. At least she would try, Cassandra hoped. When she looked up from her lover's face, she saw Sera already fumbling with the supplies. "Ugh, shit! Piss, piss, shit! Look at the stain on the sack here! How didn't we notice? It's bright pink!" 

Dorian walked over, and to someone who hadn't spent time with him, he might even look cool-headed. Like she'd pointed out, there was a small spot on one of the new satchels next to the blanket where they'd placed their food. It wasn't there the last time they'd eaten at this camp, but besides that, there was no explanation. "Bright pink? Explain for us, Sera." 

"It's magebane! Bright pink! Drains 'em of any power they had, and then it can kill them. At best, she's a walking target. At worst, she's dead, and we're all fucked!" 

Pacing back towards Cassandra, she pointed at her own bag. "Pour some potions down her throat, though. Can't hurt, right? It's just elfroot." 

Dorian had already moved towards the horses and was tying Aviva's horse to Cassandra's. Aviva rode a bay mare with a fiery temper, and she was complaining loudly about having someone besides her rider tying her up. With a quick inhale, Cassandra grabbed her lover by the waist and hoisted her up in her arms. Aviva made no move to resist or help, so she dangled like dead weight. Cassandra's stomach dropped again. Everything about this felt wrong, so much so that it was almost unreal. They had done so much together, struggled through dangers that Cassandra thought were impossible to survive. And now someone had managed to get through her to Aviva without a fight. She felt beyond useless. 

But finding out what had happened was up to Sera, Dorian, and the few concerned guards milling about them as they moved. For once, Cassandra wasn't fighting. She was running-- and she was helpless. 

She hated to let go of the Inquisitor, but one of the guards held her as Cassandra climbed onto her horse. Cassandra's charger was large enough to support the two of them easily. He stilled as Aviva was gently lifted up in front of the Seeker, seated right against her horse's skin. The gelding's tack would take time to put on and only comfortably seat one, so the two of them rode bareback. 

Without another word, Cassandra cued the gelding to speed up. She held Aviva tightly to her chest as the gelding trotted off with the mare following. When she trusted that Aviva would stay still against her, she clucked her tongue to the horse. He leapt into a canter, and from that moment on, the only sound was the wind howling through the canyons and hooves beating on dirt. 

Cassandra had not been so afraid when she was in danger. Even when she thought she might die in the Fade, she knew she had allies beside her. Now, there was nobody to share the burden. Aviva's fate rested on her alone.

When Aviva's head jostled slightly and turned, she could see that the smaller woman's eyes had closed. There was no point stopping to rouse her and comfort her with such little time and quite a ways left to travel, but she did call the horses to a halt to force a potion to her lover's lips. Aviva swallowed enough of it, though some spilled down her chin. She blinked a few times and then looked around with wide eyes. When Cassandra's armor scraped together with the horse's movements, she looked up at her lover's face, then let out a soft sigh of relief before closing her eyes again. 

Cassandra's stomach flopped over. Aviva had wanted to see her. 

The keep came into view from the canyon floor, up atop the bluff and over the dunes. The distance wasn't long, and on her charger, it seemed shorter. Whenever Aviva shivered, the metal buckles of her coat jingled against Cassandra's platemail. She couldn't even remember when her lover had begun to shake, but now it wouldn't stop. When she glanced down, she saw beads of sweat on Aviva's brow. 

She clutched Aviva closer, if such a thing was possible, and began to whisper. She often prayed silently in the field, but perhaps for Aviva's benefit, this time she wanted her words heard. "Maker, though the darkness comes upon me..."

Aviva sucked in a deep breath, and as she exhaled, her teeth chattered. Cassandra squeezed her against her chest and continued to speak. "I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm." 

She had to stop speaking to cue her horse to leap up over a rock blocking the path, and luckily, Aviva's horse had a long enough tether to successfully follow. The keep was closer now that they'd crested the slope, and any moment now they would catch the attention of the scouts on the walls. 

"I shall endure." 

Faintly, she heard someone shouting. The great gate was being rolled upwards for them. She took a breath and saw Aviva breathing as well. "What You have created, no one can tear asunder."


	10. Doze

When Aviva woke up, the first thing she noticed was the sweltering night heat. Then the feeling of sheets on an uncomfortable cot. Then a soft, familiar voice's murmur, barely audible over the bustle outside her room. She slowly opened her eyes to see Cassandra sitting on a camp chair beside her, hands clasped together on the edge of the cot. She began to listen wearily, because to hear Cassandra speak felt like a cool ointment over burnt skin. "… for there is no darkness in the Maker's Light, and nothing that He has wrought shall be lost..." 

Aviva's chest jerked with a loud cough, startling her lover enough to make her pause. She glanced up, then stiffened. A silence hung over them for a moment as their eyes met before Cassandra sat up and moved her chair closer to Aviva's side. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't quite find the right words. She settled on asking, "How are you feeling?" 

Aviva stretched her shoulders a little, testing how she could move. She slowly lifted a hand to brush her dark, thick hair out of her face, then gave Cassandra a little smile. Cassandra felt butterflies shake in her stomach at her reassurance. "I'm tired... But I'm alive, right? Again." 

"You always manage to succeed against impossible odds, Aviva," exhaled Cassandra as she reached out to grasp her lover's hand. "As if you were born for it." 

It was a small motion, hidden by the bed if anyone were to come in, but Aviva was excited to see that it was Cassandra who was initiating their gestures now. "I don't think you can give me the credit this time. I was so drained I couldn't keep my eyes open, but I remember the sounds. Loud wind, and your armor clanking in a rhythm that kept me awake, and your voice." 

"That is correct. I rode to the keep with you. Sera and Dorian tracked the fake officer through the canyons and dispatched him after questioning. He was operating under the Venatori in this region. From now on, security around you will be tighter. I will not allow this to happen again." 

Cassandra's voice hardened at her last sentence, and she squeezed Aviva's hand in hers. Aviva closed her eyes and sighed wearily, but a small smile still graced her lips. "You won't? So you were worried. I'm sorry." 

"Don't apologize to me! It is my fault! If we are to end this war, I must keep you alive," Cassandra replied, and her tone was so harsh that Aviva opened her eyes again and flinched. 

Immediately, she regretted her outburst. Asking Aviva not to apologize was ridiculous. The Inquisitor couldn't bump into someone without spending a few minutes apologizing for her conduct. It wasn't right to ask, and it wouldn't even stop her from apologizing in the first place. The Inquisitor looked away out the window, unsure of what to say. "Aviva, I didn't mean that. What I am trying to say is, I am your lover, and I feel responsible for keeping you safe in the field. Whenever you're hurt, I've failed."

Aviva sat up with a bit of effort and leaned over towards Cassandra. She untwined their fingers and wrapped Cassandra up in a tight hug, almost falling off the bed to do so. Cassandra's platemail was off, but her leather armor smelled the same as it always did. Aviva squirmed, trying to get comfortable so far bent over, and then stopped as Cassandra spoke. "Here, let go for a moment." 

Aviva obliged, though she didn't look happy about it, and sank back into the pillows. With a soft chuckle, Cassandra lifted the Inquisitor up completely and set her down a few more inches towards the far side of the bed. The movement left enough room for Cassandra to settle down and sit propped up against the multitude of pillows as well. "You didn't fail me, you know. Don't say that. You carried me here-- you must have, right? I was in no condition to ride, and I doubt a romantic like yourself would tie me to my horse when you could instead be my dashing heroine." 

Cassandra's cheeks turned a fiery red. It was a true assessment, but she was no less embarrassed of it than if it had been just teasing. Aviva grinned up at her and rested her head not against the pillows, but against her shoulder. "I did carry you." 

"So it was like something out of one of your books? You see, we'd make a good story. Maybe I'll bother Varric about it. Wasn't Swords and Shields written about friends of his, too?" 

Her cheeks reddened more, and Aviva wondered if she always looked this much like a strawberry when she was flustered. "No! Then he would elaborate on all sorts of things, and I have no interest in Varric guessing at what we're like under the sheets! You must not give him any ideas." 

Aviva positively giggled, but it turned into a long yawn. "No promises," she laughed, but Cassandra could tell that the Inquisitor needed more rest. 

"No more of that now, then. You're still worn out. Sleep." 

"Will you stay?" 

"Of course." 

When Cassandra had finished removing her leather armor, she saw Aviva already dozing. She put her unsheathed sword on top of the small camp chair next to her, then climbed in next to the smaller elf. Aviva curled up against her immediately, and Cassandra had to admit that she did quite like being the bigger spoon. She began to doze quickly-- her overnight vigil had taken its toll. 

Nothing disturbed their slumber except a soft creaking of the door, open and shut. Only a note was left: a crude drawing of a grinning Cassandra in bed with the Inquisitor, signed in Sera's telltale handwriting, "We're glad you're okay. Talk to you when you're awake." 

Then, in a different color of ink, probably added afterwards: "Don't wear yourself out before you get out of bed!"


	11. Carry

The magebane faded from her system slowly, but it tortured Aviva to be stuck in Skyhold while she could be out in the field. When the call came out that Corypheus was headed to the Arbor Wilds, she finally had her excuse. There was no more time to wait and recover, even though she was warned that she was nowhere near her full strength again. It didn't matter, she said. For this mission, she was dispensable, and she would do what she could. 

So Cassandra stood by her lover's side all through the Arbor Wilds, no matter how high the stakes became. She saw Aviva gawk like a farmer in the city at every turn in the temple. Ahead of all of them went Morrigan, who looked unperturbed by the elven glory on full display before them. Even Cassandra was impressed- to an extent. She knew about Aviva's devotion to Mythal, but the two of them had mostly ignored the topic. There wasn't much time for religious discussion while at war. It was on the long, long list of things to do if they still lived when Corypheus was dead. 

What did strike Cassandra was watching Aviva grow more and more irritated with Morrigan. When they argued at the well, Aviva was very obviously boiling with anger. She had held her tongue admirably for the entire operation, so only her friends seemed able to notice her distress. It was only at a word from Cassandra reminding her that she couldn't take any risks that the argument ended. Aviva had gestured for Morrigan to drink from the well, then turned away. 

Cassandra had known it would upset her, but she didn't know it would be this bad. 

The advisors wanted a meeting at the war table, but Aviva was nowhere to be found. Leliana was scouring Skyhold, and so far had found nothing. Her agents were about to head into the surrounding woods when Cassandra offered to try to find her. It wasn't long after her bout with magebane, after all-- she certainly hadn't been at full strength in the Wilds. 

Cassandra found the small, worn trail they had used when they first snuck out of Skyhold to be together. She wasn't able to tell if Aviva had walked it, or if it had only been deer. Silently, she cursed her Dalish friend's stealth in the forests. She had no such agility, especially not now. Cassandra moved through the woods like a bear, crunching twigs and shoving branches out of her way. 

The sound of someone crashing through the forest let Aviva know early that someone was coming. She only needed a short time alone, out of the castle, away from the bustle and noise. It was home now, but she still longed for the open space of a camp in the Free Marches. The windows to her chambers were always left wide, but it never felt like enough. 

Cassandra sighted a light burning the signature pale green of Aviva's magic and called out. "Inquisitor!" 

This surprised her. Why was Cassandra looking for her? She hadn't meant to be gone long. She hadn't meant to worry anyone, just to get away. She couldn't stand the sight of anyone at the moment. "Cassandra? What's wrong?" 

She hadn't even gotten to Aviva before she started to speak. Her words were quick and harsh from worry. "You-- left us for hours, telling no one! Leliana is on a manhunt looking for you! It's been all she can do to scour the castle without panicking the soldiers and pilgrims--" 

Then she turned the corner and saw Aviva, sitting against a tall birch tree surrounded by almost more books than her thin arms could carry. All of them were on Dalish lore. The books weren't what caught her attention, though. It was her lover's embarrassed, upset expression. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were puffy. 

"Are you all right?" 

Aviva closed her book and leaned back against the tree. "Honestly? I haven't been all right since we got to the Well of Sorrows."

Slowly, Cassandra shifted some of the books away and settled down next to her lover. "I will listen, if you want me to. We have a little time before Leliana's scouts canvas this far."  
"I... I'd like that. Thank you." 

She took a breath and leaned over against Cassandra's shoulder, then spoke up. "When we found the Temple of Mythal, I was overjoyed. I've spent my whole life asking her for guidance. When I came of age, the valasllin I wanted was Mythal's. And then to find remnants of what we used to be, before we had to hide and run from humans- it felt like Mythal reaching out somehow, to give me strength. I don't know which god, if any, was guiding me there, but I can't think it's coincidence." 

Cassandra gently wrapped an arm around Aviva's waist and leaned her own head down atop her lover's. Aviva continued to speak. "And then I had to listen, the entire time, to everyone else-- even you!-- speak about how foolish I was to go through with the rituals or even to trust in my own people's gods at all. Especially Morrigan, who knows so much about us and apparently felt no need to enlighten me." 

"You can't imagine. To have found a temple of Mythal guarded by elves wearing valasllin the same as mine, and to stand beside the well with the blessing of its keeper to drink. I have climbed so, so high, done more than I ever thought possible, and still I have to hear from a human, 'I know more. I deserve this more.' As if I was drawn there just to be told that I'm not good enough to carry the weight for us." 

Once Aviva started to speak, she found she couldn't stop. Her words were heavy, spoken in a shaking voice, but they fell out faster than she could even think of them. She felt Cassandra's free hand grasp one of hers tightly to let her know she was listening. "The worst part is that like you said, I can't risk myself. I'm not allowed. I'm the only one with this awful mark, and people are depending on it." 

"I can't carry that weight, but I won't let Morrigan advise me on matters of my own people. Even if now I have no Keeper to teach me, and no clan to advise, I was a First once. I will know everything she does and more." 

Aviva gestured to the books around her, and it all made sense. "I'm sorry," murmured Cassandra. "You're hurting about so many things." 

"I didn't mean to inconvenience anyone," she replied quietly, pressing closer to Cassandra's side. 

"They will live. Listen, I will take your books to your quarters. Your advisors want you at the war table. It should be short, and then we can spend the evening together, away from the others. Would you like that?" 

When she answered after a pause, Aviva almost sounded like she was going to cry. "I really, really would."


	12. Prepare

The Inquisition enjoyed only a few days of peace until it was shattered when Aviva cried out in pain at the war table. Her mark seared with green light and caused her companions to turn away. Morrigan was the first to speak, and her words were almost concerned. "There's no need to search for Corypheus. He's here in the valley, and it appears he intends to split the sky." 

Aviva was breathing hard, but she stood tall again. "We have no time to prepare soldiers, do we?" 

Cullen slowly shook his head. "No. We don't. Most are still returning from the Arbor Wilds." 

The Inquisitor looked around, meeting the eyes of every one of her advisors. "Then it's on my shoulders. If someone could get rations for myself and a few others to eat while we travel, it'd help. I'll gather up a striking force and be at the gates as soon as I can."

Josephine spoke up, and her voice was firm and practical enough to reassure Aviva that things might be all right. "Whose horses should I have prepared?" 

"We'll need five. For myself, Cassandra, Dorian, Sera, and Morrigan. I won't make them come, but those are the people I'm going to ask first." 

"I had already committed to this course of action, Inquisitor," replied Morrigan, turning away from Leliana so that her old companion wouldn't be able to see that she was tense. 

Lady Nightingale missed nothing, however, and she furrowed her brows at the woman who had once been almost a friend. With a quick nod to Morrigan, Aviva rushed from the room. Her mark was still pulsing in an erratic rhythm as she scrambled down the stairs to reach Cassandra. Her lover had already closed her book when she arrived. "You're not here with good tidings." 

"He's here. At the temple. Cassandra, I'm frightened. I don't know if I can do this without you," she exhaled, looking around as if Corypheus would suddenly appear if she stopped scanning the area. 

Cassandra stood, grabbed her hands and then gave her a fierce kiss on the lips. When she broke it, she spoke. "We will fight as we always have, love. I told you once that I wouldn't allow Corypheus to take you away from me, and I meant it."

Aviva didn't want to pull away, but she let go of Cassandra's hands and turned. "Can you get Sera? My things are in my quarters, and I can get Dorian on the way. Morrigan is already headed out, and Josephine is having our horses readied. Meet me at the gates when you're ready to ride out." 

With a nod, Cassandra thundered into the bar and up the stairs. Aviva couldn't watch, because she was rushing in the opposite direction. She threw open the doors to the library and disturbed Solas's reading by yelling as she rushed up the stairs. "Dorian? Dorian!" 

The mage approached her quickly as she got to the top step. "What is it? With you looking like that, it can't be good." 

"Corypheus. In the valley. Please come with me. I won't make you, but--" 

He cut her off sharply, but his tone was reassuring. "I'm coming with you, Inquisitor. You know that. You won't be alone when you face that creature." 

Aviva could have cried right there, but instead, she hugged Dorian tightly. "Thank you." 

He tensed up in surprise, then returned the hug. She knew such displays might startle him, but Aviva couldn't keep her emotions down. "I'm going to get my armor on. Meet us at the gates. Your horse will be there." 

She was a storm through the halls and back to her quarters. Each movement was shaky but quick as she pulled on her robes and then strapped on the bits of platemail she'd become strong enough to carry. When she looked at herself in the mirror she saw every flaw, from her runaway curls pulling their way out of her braid to the scars on her face. But the woman she saw looking at her was a full-fledged leader, someone that would have made her Keeper proud. 

With her chainmail shirt jingling and her staff in hand, she rushed out through the main hall and down the steps again. She could see the horses at the gates, and her force already mounted and ready. When she arrived, she clambered up on her mare and looked around at the Inquisition soldiers who had prepared their mounts for them. "Thank you. I-- I hope I'll see you soon. Let's go, then!" 

She cued her horse into a trot and immediately into a canter, and her party did the same. Cassandra watched as Aviva rode in front of her, and only the sound of hooves on the stone road accompanied them towards the breach. 

Cassandra had followed a leader into a crisis before, but it had never been like this. She wasn't afraid to lose her life, but she was terrified for Aviva's. Softly, she recited verses from the Chant. She couldn't make it out, but she thought Aviva might have been praying as well.


	13. Conjure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graphic depictions of violence and death.

The telltale sounds of battle pushed Aviva forward. She was so afraid she was almost panicking, but there was nothing to do except go forward. Suddenly, she felt an armored hand grasp her own. Cassandra stood beside her, fully armored and resplendent. Somehow, Aviva felt a little calmer. "Thank you," she whispered, then let go and turned the corner to face the creature she'd been chasing for months now. 

He stared down at her from across a ruined courtyard, surrounded by her soldiers. They lay crumpled like discarded dolls, either dead or dying. Demons stared them down as her small force strode forward, and Cassandra dispatched one as easily as a hunter would kill a rabbit. Then Corypheus's voice rumbled forth, and Aviva swallowed as he spoke. "I knew you would come to meet me." 

Her voice shook as she spoke, and her fear produced a bone-chilling laugh from the creature staring her down. "This has to end now." 

She couldn't even hear his reply over the shudder and scream of the earth being torn asunder. She staggered back towards Cassandra as the whole temple lifted up from the earth in fits and starts. She saw splinters of stone flying around them and realized the whole valley was being torn apart. Perhaps with all his attention on this magic, she thought, he might slip up in combat. It was a chance. 

Corypheus opened his mouth to speak, but Aviva stood up, tall and firm. She had to be like a sapling, she reminded herself: bend, but don't break. "I don't care what you have to say!" 

The tiny elf stared up at Corypheus, brows furrowed and staff pointed at his chest. She watched as he let out a resounding chuckle. When he spoke, it was with deliberation. "You should." 

With the thunder of wings, his Archdemon landed atop the stone pillars and let out a terrible roar. Aviva didn't turn to look, but she could hear Cassandra softly reciting from the Chant behind her, and she was certain she'd heard a quiet stream of cuss words from Sera. The sound of her allies was reassuring, in a way, because it reminded her that she wasn't the only one afraid. The great dragon launched itself from its perch towards them, and Sera's swearing raised in pitch. For a moment, Aviva thought she was going to die. 

She didn't close her eyes. If she was to face death like this, she would at least be brave.

Morrigan swooped down teeth first. She had explained how this would work in brief, but the sight of another high dragon stopped Aviva's heart cold for a moment. Morrigan hit the Archdemon with her shoulder and snaked around to land a harsh bite on its neck, earning an eerie scream from the beast. As quickly as they had appeared, they fell from the floating temple into the skies. As Corypheus shouted in rage, Cassandra charged him. 

The fighting itself was terrifying. Every time a blow rained down on Cassandra's shield, Aviva felt certain the metal was about to snap. Even knowing the protective strength of her magical barriers, she yelped in terror whenever one of her companions was hit. The red lyrium all around them made her mind race in fear-- what if it made her sluggish or paranoid and caused a mistake? One slowly conjured barrier could mean a friend's life. 

Her thoughts felt like they were sliding in front of what was playing out before her eyes, like two completely different realities were mingling. Her attacks were coming without thought, because there was no time to consider tactics. She had to trust that everyone would do their jobs so that she could do hers. 

It wasn't hard to trust the ragtag team she had assembled. Dorian spit flame from his hands as easily as one might blink, and Sera's arrows never missed their mark. It was only when Sera shot an arrow into one of his eyes that Corypheus staggered back and disappeared in black smoke. She screamed in glee, flapping one hand as she ran, and the sight of her so alive bolstered Aviva. 

They rushed up the hard stone stairs, listening to Sera's gleeful shouts. Her voice was tense and almost panicked, but Aviva was more than thankful to hear her friend at all. "Look at that! Like I told you, better get in good before you get too big for your britches! All that about godhood and you can shoot him as easy as some pig in Val Royeaux!" 

Corypheus's voice was a shuddering scream of rage from yards away. "Mongrels! You toy with a god!" 

Sera swallowed hard at the realization that she'd been loud enough for their enemy to hear. Cassandra said nothing, but stared out from behind her helmet as they crested the stairs. Aviva stood just behind her, hidden by her shield. 

This time, Corypheus pointed directly at the two of them. "You're nothing but a shadow of what was, Inquisitor. You are a disgrace to your people, and their horror will sustain me when they realize that you've been crushed!" 

With his words, the two dragons flew overhead. A clap of wind from one's wings pushed them all back, and Aviva struck a stone pillar face first with a yelp of pain. She let out a harsh, angry laugh that startled her companions even as Cassandra closed the distance to Corypheus. "You have no idea, do you?" 

She stabbed her staff's blade into the ground and let loose a barrage of ice bolts as she screamed a response. "Once, that would have terrified me. But now, Mythal's guidance gives me strength. You didn't even know what happened after the temple!" 

She ripped her staff from the ground and stood tall, even with her newly broken nose dripping blood onto her robes. "A true god has spoken with me, and when you burn, it will be by her will!" 

With that, Aviva's hands glowed a bright, flaming red. She pointed her staff at Corypheus and watched in delight as flames snaked over his arms, sinking into his rotten flesh. Sensing an opening, Cassandra rushed into the fray and stung him deeply with her sword. 

With his side oozing cherry-red blood, Corypheus screamed in anger. Aviva didn't see the attack coming, but her lover did. Cassandra lifted her shield up to block most of the magical flame, but it was so harsh that Aviva could barely see her through the red light. All she could hear was Cassandra's roar of pain. 

As she conjured a barrier, her thoughts raced a mile a minute: _failed her, too slow, too late, is she alive? Is she alive? Please be alive. Mythal, All-Mother, please let her be alive._


	14. Strike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains violence and dragon guts.

When the flames subsided, she could see Cassandra, crouched with her shield covering her face and torso. She shone with the bright blue light of a barrier, but Aviva could see that the pure heat from Corypheus's magic had taken a toll on her. 

Her thoughts were still flying through her mind as she sent up a silent prayer of gratitude. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, please just let her live through this. I don't care if I die, but please, All-Mother, Great Protector, let Cassandra live." 

It was eerily similar to Cassandra's thoughts. As the flames crackled around her, she felt the cool touch of Aviva's barrier magic over her armor reminding her that her lover was alive and safe. Her body felt like an old, weary suit of armor as she moved to strike again. 

Perhaps enraged that she had survived, Corypheus took a faltering step backwards and went up in a puff of smoke. His disappearance gave Aviva enough time to rush to Cassandra's side with a potion in hand. "Drink," she offered, "Please." 

As soon as Cassandra had taken her helmet off and pressed her lips to the glass bottle, a dragon's scream cut through the air. For a moment, Aviva thought that the Archdemon was dead, but she watched in horror as Morrigan slammed into the ground shoulder-first. With a heaving breath, her shape faltered. "We've got to get to her," Aviva cried out to her small force. 

Cassandra nodded, sucking in a deep breath and putting her helmet on again. She could only pray that the elfroot potion would keep her burns at bay. They had a few bottles left, though, and she might need to drink them all. It was better that she was injured and the others were safe. 

Sera rushed down the stairs, bow in hand. She screeched to a halt at the sight of Corypheus's dragon landing. Its breaths were heaving, and blood leaked from a massive bite mark on its neck. Its blood was unnaturally bright red, and Aviva noted it was the color of red lyrium. 

"This will be payback for Haven," Dorian noted, his voice tinged with fear as the dragon stared them down. 

Cassandra tried to keep them all calm even as she prepared to charge. "The scales are soft where they meet other limbs. Shoot it there. Try to keep it slowed down. Shout if you see its nostrils burn red." 

Aviva couldn't possibly appreciate her lover's calmness in battle any more than she did at that moment. A ball of light formed in her hands, then shattered to cloak all of them in a bright barrier. Cassandra roared and charged the dragon. 

When it reared its head back and snapped at Cassandra, Aviva's heart leapt into her throat. She watched in horror as its great teeth lunged at her, but Cassandra jabbed it with her longsword enough to force it to back off. While it was occupied, Sera was peppering it with arrows, and as it moved, the shafts broke off, leaving small holes leaking blood onto the stone. Dorian was meticulous as he directed bolts of ice towards the dragon and right against those injuries. When he slammed his staff against the ground, bolts of lightning crashed from above them down into the dragon's wounds. 

Aviva was almost knocked backwards by the roar of pain it emitted. She shuddered, but Cassandra didn't balk at all. She had the great dragon's attention. Its nostrils glowed a bright red and Aviva screamed, "Cassandra! It's going to breathe!" 

Her lover ducked away as the dragon reared. As it opened its mouth, Sera let an arrow fly straight into its soft belly. It writhed backwards only to hit Cassandra's sword. She lunged forward again and cleaved a long, deep cut into its torso. Blood and black entrails spilled out, some covered in a bright red, glowing webbing that was obviously caused by red lyrium. The dragon reeled away from Cassandra and opened its mouth to breathe again, shuddering with the effort. 

Dorian directed her staff towards its injured belly and called on his reserves of magic. A massive ice crystal formed halfway inside the wound, poking out towards Cassandra. He called out loudly across the field. "Pull your shield up, Cassandra, this is going to send shrapnel!" 

As soon as she had protected her head and torso, the ice exploded. The wound was gaping now, and Cassandra's shield and platemail were covered in dark, disgusting blood. The dragon fell to its side, neck writhing. She stepped forward with sword in hand and stomped down to keep it still as she slit its throat like Aviva had seen hunters do daily at camp. The action was the same as butchering an animal they were to eat for dinner. 

With a scream, the dragon spasmed and then lay still. "I almost can't believe that worked," said Dorian. "I wasn't expecting its entrails to be glowing." 

Sera was absently picking dried blood off of her armor as she spoke. Her words were quick and worried, spilling off her tongue one after the other."It's gross. Disgusting. Bet Coryphelus felt that like a kick in the ass, though." 

As they spoke, the glow of the red lyrium faded from the dragon and fled through the air. It coagulated into a dripping ball of magic, guiding them up to its master. 

"He'll feel more than that when we're done," Dorian added. "He's on the defensive now." 

Aviva nodded, but her voice shook. "Good. Let's end this."

As the group reconvened, Cassandra took one of Aviva's hands in hers and squeezed. They would face this creature together or not at all.


	15. Rift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for death and blood.

Corypheus was shouting panicked pleas to the Old Gods when Aviva crested the stairs. She spoke up, but her voice shook. Confronting an enemy as powerful as this had her shaking in her boots, even though she was trying to be brave. "They're not listening. You've got to face us on equal ground." 

He looked at her for a moment and said nothing, then grasped the orb and gestured with his free hand. Two walls of red lyrium magic came rushing toward them, but Aviva's magic was faster. The flames passed over her barriers like a breeze, and Cassandra took that moment to charge him. Corypheus tried to swipe down at her with a clawed hand, but she parried it expertly. Now he bled not only from a useless eye, but from a deep cut to his arm as well. 

Aviva had never felt more useless as the Inquisitor than when she stood behind Cassandra's shield, shaking with fear. Her words bit at the magister, but she couldn't do what her lover did. Cassandra had leapt out of the way of dragons' breath for her, fought and killed and nearly died for her more than once. 

She knew that Dorian and Sera were also risking their lives by being part of this strike force, but the three of them stayed relatively safe at range. Cassandra charged into the midst of everything, and she did it because Aviva needed her to. There was never any discussion about it, and there never had been. 

Aviva didn't know that Cassandra was whispering parts of the Chant of Light as she fought, nor that she was silently thanking the Maker every time she felt the cool blue magic of Aviva's barrier slide over her armor.  
It felt like years before Corypheus's attacks even wore down. 

Everything from then on felt unreal. Aviva rushed up towards him as he attempted to force the Breach open and shoved all of her will into pulling the Anchor away. 

To the surprise of everyone, she yanked it away. She wasn't even sure whether it was the Mark or her magic giving her that power, but she didn't have time to contemplate it. "It's finished," she exhaled, chest heaving. 

She lifted the orb to the sky and sent surges of power up from her Mark towards the Breach. Even as she worked, she could feel energy rushing from her. It only took a moment and a massive surge of green light, sweeping through the sky like the northern lights over Skyhold. The Breach shuddered and shrunk to a scar, and she could almost feel the sky heave a sigh of relief. 

Before anyone else had time to react, Aviva reached out with both hands and scrunched her eyes closed. Her companions flinched nearly in unison at the eerie shockwaves of magic that rushed off of the Inquisitor as she grasped something incorporeal. Aviva felt the veil shudder and rip at her behest even as her Mark sent searing pain up her arm. When her rift had fully opened, green magical energy began to shift and surge at Corypheus. It grasped at his clothing as well as his skin and dragged it back into the Fade in shuddering spurts. It was always a decidedly disgusting maneuver to open a rift and use it to kill, but she couldn't risk him living. 

Cassandra backed away towards Dorian and Sera as the earth beneath them began to shudder and quake again. She knew it would fall, but the terror that built in her gut was horrendous. Aviva was bathed in green light from the rift as it sucked Corypheus up bit by bit, ignoring his howling screams as he died. 

When all that was left was blood on the ground, Aviva turned around to see her close friends waving at her to run. "It's coming apart! Inquisitor? Aviva!" 

As she conjured a barrier with the last of her strength, the ground gave way.


	16. Out

Aviva coughed hard and tried to blink away the smoke filling her eyes and nose. The orb lay broken a few yards away, and Solas crouched beside it. That was a good sign. She could recognize someone. Staggering to her feet, she waved a hand and cried out, "Solas?" 

He turned to look at her, but his attention wasn't on her at all. It was focused only on the orb. She knew they hadn't become particularly close, but this was startling, even for him.

"We can try to fix it... The Arcanist, maybe?" 

He shook his head, and as she was about to respond, the sharp, terrified call of a familiar voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Inquisitor?! Are you alive?" 

She knew it was Cassandra coming up the steps towards her by the sound of her platemail crashing against itself. Aviva's voice wavered as she rushed away from Solas and the orb towards a soft clamor that was rising in pitch. She called out, trying to wave smoke away so that she could see further, "Cassandra?" 

As she came to the top of the short stairs, Aviva saw her. Cassandra stood a few steps up, her armor splattered with blood and entrails. Their eyes locked and Cassandra tore off her helmet to see more clearly through the smoke. "You're alive," she exhaled. "We're alive." 

Aviva knew that people were speaking, but none of it mattered as she rushed down the stairs and wiped away blood from her face. When she reached Cassandra, she wrapped her arms around the other woman as tightly as she could. Cassandra surprised her lover by lifting her up in a tight bear hug, and anyone watching could see the grin on the usually stoic Seeker's face. 

With smoke still pouring from the wreckage and blood covering both of their armor, Aviva pressed her lips to Cassandra's and found her kiss returned. The noise and setting didn't matter to the Inquisitor, even though her lover's cheeks were a bright red. When they broke apart, Cassandra gently set her down on the ground and finally began to listen to the world around them. 

The Inquisition had seen them now. There was no way to deny they were involved. Aviva had expected at least someone to be glaring, but as she looked around, she saw smiling faces. Bull gave her a big wink as she met his eyes, a smug grin on his face that meant "I already knew." Sera was rolling back and forth from her toes to her heels, both hands flapping in the way that meant she was truly pleased. The grin on Dorian's face brought a blush to Aviva's cheeks. Morrigan was too injured to celebrate properly, but when Aviva met her eyes, she thought she saw the ghost of a smile cross her lips. 

Aviva limped down the last few steps to the crowd of people. When she and Cassandra were together, it had been a roar of noise, but now everything was eerily quiet. Aviva wasn't even sure what to say. She wiped blood from her still bleeding nose and looked around uncertainly until someone asked, "So what now?" 

"Now, I think, we should go home." 

Cassandra stood behind her lover, arms crossed. Her heart was still pounding, but whenever she met someone's eyes, they looked pleased or excited. She couldn't see anger or disgust on anyone's face the way she had expected. It seemed that nobody thought less of her, and if they did, now she could be certain that they would have an earnest chat with someone's fist. It didn't even seem like it would have to be hers. This wasn't what she had expected, but then again, nothing about Aviva turned out to be what she had expected. 

As Aviva was smothered in compliments and concerned statements about her injuries, Cassandra had a moment to breathe. She closed her eyes and clasped her hands. 

She spoke in a whisper, carried off by the wind. "Maker, thank you."


	17. Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very short postlude. Only one or two more chapters until this is a completed work! :-)

The wind whipped through their flimsy tent in the early morning, when stars still flickered overhead. They shared one tent now, and the best part was that everyone knew. It was all so different than the covert kisses shared when nobody was looking, and it was better. 

Aviva curled up against Cassandra's chest, skin pressed against skin. Her lover's burns from the final battle were beginning to peel. Aviva angrily pressed a kiss to the splashes of color on Cassandra's deep tan skin. It would scar. 

Everything about the aftermath felt like a healing scar. She had thought the actual war against Corypheus was hard, but now that it was finished, she was finding herself more tired than ever before. Josephine coaxed her through meetings with noble after noble who would be lending their financial support to the Inquisition's efforts, but all she did was daydream about riding through green forests and over hills again. 

She did get to go out into the field, but it wasn't as regular, nor were her excursions as long. She hadn't said anything about it, but Cassandra could see her lover's exhaustion. Some small part of her was relieved that Leliana had been named Divine. She was disappointed, yes, but she had already resolved herself to rebuild the Seekers. If it wasn't one crusade, it was another. Most importantly, there was no conflict between her faith and Aviva if she wasn't Divine. She didn't have to leave. 

It was something the both of them had been silently dreading, but now it wasn't going to happen at all. Things would go on, somewhat like they had been, but everything had changed. 

The scar in the sky was a scar for the both of them. Aviva was wrenched awake by screaming, crying dreams every night, and sometimes Cassandra slept through them. Those were the worst mornings, when Cassandra could see Aviva hadn't slept, but hadn't wanted to wake her. She felt like her good sleep had been torn away from her lover. 

Tonight felt like one of those nights. 

Aviva took a deep breath and squeezed Cassandra tightly. "Cass?" 

She had used to hate that nickname, but as she blinked her eyes open, she didn't even register it. "Mm?" 

"You told me to wake you up if I needed you. Cassandra, I do need you."

The warrior rolled over a little to face her lover, ignoring their morning breath in her worry. She smiled a little, reassuring and warm. "I'm here. We're safe."


	18. Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's baaack! After almost a year, I decided to give this fic some more chapters to expand on the events of Trespasser. I hope you all enjoy! ♥

“As if things weren’t complicated enough,” Cassandra thought, glaring at the white stone of Halamshiral as if she could change current events with the ferocity of her gaze.

They had all changed in the time since Corypheus fell, Aviva included. The Inquisitor was still a waif in comparison to her tall, broad lover, but now she wore her hair down. To someone who knew her as well as Cassandra did, such a small action was a giveaway of her mental state; during the war, her hair had always been tied up in a braid and left to hang over one shoulder. Living with someone you love in relative peace, Cassandra thought, would take the edge off of anyone.

Even though they stood together, the two of them weren’t at ease. With Ferelden and Orlais both trying to disarm the Inquisition in different ways, Aviva was forced to go back into the public gaze. She had never been good at that, and now was no exception. She could wave and smile at the masses, but standing up for herself in front of angry nobles was something best left to Leliana, Vivienne, and Josephine. Even Cassandra dealt better with the Orlesian nobility than Aviva.

The Inquisitor and the Seeker were suddenly jostled from their solitude by an Inquisition soldier rushing up to them. “Lady Nightingale would like to relay that you’re needed urgently, milady,” she said, visibly hesitant to intrude.

Everyone in Skyhold knew of their relationship at this point—their passionate kiss after Corypheus’s death had ensured that rumors flew well beyond the walls of the castle-- and so nobody was interested in the wrath of the Seeker being directed their way for interrupting their few moments alone. But Cassandra only furrowed her eyebrows and glanced down to gauge Aviva’s expression. She looked put out, but she noted the soldier’s discomfort. In her usual soft, reassuring voice, she responded. “Of course. Tell her that I will report presently, please.”

With a nod and a salute, the soldier was off, her platemail clanging the whole way. Aviva looked sadly at Cassandra and shrugged her slender shoulders. “Duty calls, Cass,” she mumbled.

Cassandra smiled a little at the nickname. Only Aviva was allowed to use it without at least a glare or a disgusted noise—not that that particularly stopped others. Cassandra nodded and replied, “I will likely still be here when you need me.”

Not an if, but a when. The choice in phrasing made Aviva smile. She nearly floated away, or so it looked in her formal summer dress. It was a light fabric in soft off-white, and it made Cassandra secretly wonder how her lover would look in a wedding gown.

When the Inquisitor arrived to meet her advisor, her armor was laid out to the side of a table. Her neutral expression turned into a frown immediately. “What’s the situation?”

Leliana’s tone was deadly serious. “A dead Qunari, simply put. We need to know how he got here. If things go south, I would rather have you at the helm of the mission.”

Cullen was not present, which Aviva appreciated. She had always flinched when his voice turned even slightly aggressive after learning his history with mages. It was paranoid, she admitted, but she couldn’t help it. Leliana continued slightly softer, as if she knew Aviva was going to worry over anything that could be worried about. “There’s a trail of blood. Easy enough to follow. We cannot alert the guards, or the negotiations will be compromised.”

Aviva let out a sigh. “Can’t anything just… stay all right without my intervention? Yes, I’ll go. Could you send someone to round up the usual strike force while I change?”

Leliana lingered for a moment. “The Qunari was fully armored. Do not let your guard down for a moment.”

Aviva nodded, thinking of watching the Iron Bull fight and shuddering at the thought of fighting others with his size and strength. After Leliana’s quiet departure, she sighed and began to strip down. As she did every morning, she looked at all the scars dotting her warm brown skin. Before she became the Inquisitor, when she was just the First of Clan Lavellan, she had only had one—a strike from a human’s dagger that ran through her lip. Now she was covered in all kinds of them, and she often had to remind herself that they were trophies of battles she’d survived. Without that mantra, she got nauseous every time she saw them. Aviva slipped on the green robe that reminded her so much of home, but not before taking a moment to bury her face in it. Then came the leathers, and the chainmail, and lastly the little bits of plate that she could handle. She gazed down at herself before picking up her staff and closing her eyes for a moment to prepare for whatever lay ahead.

When she opened the door, Cassandra was right in front of it, flanked by Dorian and Sera. It was odd to see the group that had followed her across Thedas assembled again, but older and wiser. Apparently she had taken longer than she’d thought getting ready. Sera grinned and opened her mouth. Just like that, Aviva knew a quip was coming. Sera chirped, twirling an arrow, “We’ve been briefed already. Maybe we’ll get to de-brief someone, yeah?”

Cassandra smirked, and Dorian chuckled. The three of them were Aviva’s confidants, and always had been, so they chose to tolerate each other for her sake. “Perhaps. Considering our potential opponents, the experience would certainly be interesting for you!”

Sera snorted. She was never invested at all in what people thought of her, and the Inquisitor was envious. She turned her gaze on Cassandra. “Anyway, if you know where we’re going, Seeker, lead away.”

“Of course, milady,” responded Cassandra, with only a hint of mirth in her voice.

With the telltale crunch of platemail, they headed off. In only a moment, Aviva could smell faint traces of blood, and then after another moment she could see them. They led up a garden trellis, and they proceeded as they always had for going upwards into battle. Since Sera was by far the best at clambering around on garden trellises, she went first. Aviva, being small, went second. Cassandra followed her—Sera had repeatedly joked that it was because she was loath to give up the view to someone who wouldn’t appreciate it. Dorian went last.

Sera scaled the trellis easily and looked back down for Aviva. She had clambered up a few feet and was grinning up. The scent of blood was thick now, and Aviva popped her head up to see the second level. Sera was crouched, looking nervous. “There’s magic in there,” she remarked, and her hand was already on her scalp to tear at the scabs hidden under her hair.

Aviva could feel it too. There was a soft hum in the air. She didn’t even wait for her other companions before approaching, though she did toss up a silvery-green barrier over herself. The blood trail led to a closed door, which she immediately opened. The contents of the room startled her. A fully active Eluvian was the source of the humming energy in the air, and the blood led into it. “Everyone—come quickly. We have to go.”

The party filed into the room one by one at a trot, and Dorian let out a soft inhale of surprise. The only noise coming from Sera was the quiet scratching that she made when she had to be around magic. Aviva took a moment to give her a small smile and a tilt of the head—a silent question. “Are you okay?” Sera nodded. That was enough. Aviva looked back at them and, stepped through the Eluvian without a word.

She was greeted by a sight eerily similar and yet startlingly different from the Crossroads. She had to guess that this was simply part of it she hadn’t seen yet, because nothing else made sense. One by one, her companions followed her through, and she continued forward. Before them lay an inactive Eluvian, with no other way to proceed. Aviva went closer until she was only a step away, ignoring that the humming had turned sinister. She lifted her Marked hand slowly.

As suddenly as she had decided to reach out, she felt a slashing pain go up her arm. With a yelp, she recoiled and lost her balance. With a hard “thud,” her rear hit the stone, and her head would have connected as well if it wasn’t for Dorian, who rushed the few paces to her and caught her handily by the armpits. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but nobody was caring about that at the moment.

Cassandra was there as soon as Aviva’s eyes opened again, kneeling down beside her. Though only her eyes were visible through her helm, Aviva knew that she was horrified. “I—I don’t know what happened,” said the Inquisitor, trying to sound calm.

Dorian frowned, watching Aviva sit up and begin to support herself again. When she looked ready to speak, he knelt down and held out a hand to inspect her arm for damage. She obliged. After a long, tense silence, he looked back up. “For once, I’m unsure what happened as well. Your Mark glowed, and the magic illuminated your veins past your wrist. There’s no sign of injury, and no traces of magic besides the normal state of your hand.”

He let go, brushed himself off, and did his best to look unconcerned. Everyone knew that was a lie—Dorian was fiercely loyal to Aviva, and she to him. After all, they were two of a kind in more ways than one. “All I can say is that it’s unusual, and certainly new. How did it feel?”

“It felt like my flesh was being burned from the inside out,” she said, shaking her head vigorously as she clambered to her feet.

That made him scrunch up his lips in thought and concern. Sera rocked back and forth from the balls of her feet to her heels and gestured at her throat with one hand. Aviva knew what she meant. Sometimes it was too much for her to speak—she said it was normal, and not to worry, that she’d let them know what she needed. So it was no longer an issue, it was just part of being friends with Sera. Cassandra was silent, but not because she was nonverbal. She was simply unsure that any of her words would be a source of comfort. She rested a gentle hand on Aviva’s shoulder instead. As the pain continued to fade, Aviva spoke again. This time, her voice was the one she used at the War Table. It was the voice of authority. “We don’t have time to worry about it right now.”

Cassandra watched as Aviva began to turn to follow the other path, clutching her still-throbbing wrist. She was obviously still in pain, and this time, nobody knew why.

The Seeker felt as though she was back in the Western Approach, carrying a limp Aviva by horseback as they raced to the keep for aid. The helplessness was terrifyingly familiar.


End file.
